


The Pancake Patch and Other Stories

by Vicmackeybullshxt (RomanChronicles)



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Angie is SAMDINO, Both SOA and Riverdale have terrible timelines and plot, Canon Typical Violence, Gen, I don’t own canon SOA/Riverdale characters, I only own my OC’s and the names I give background characters, MC’s are not good clean fun, More tags to follow, Not Canon Compliant, SAMVALE is SOA’s Midvale charter, The serpents deserve love and I will give it to them, Tom Keller is a supportive but confused parent, murder happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanChronicles/pseuds/Vicmackeybullshxt
Summary: Written as a way to familiarize myself with my SOA/Riverdale OC, Angie. This series focuses on what the patches on her jacket symbolize.
Kudos: 5





	1. The Pancake Patch

**Author's Note:**

> Tanner is the name I gave the blond Serpent that stood behind Sweet Pea when he announced the Serpents would be attending Riverdale High in season 2. This takes place before season 1, during the summer. Angie is 17, almost 18, and Tanner has just turned 19.

The Pancake Patch:

_A 1.5 inch wide and 1 inch tall stack of syrup laden pancakes on a China dish flanked by a smattering of bubbles._

The quarry was cold that night, even with the fire going. The waning moon haunted the sky with a few stars that could be seen now that Angie was away from the well lit streets of the Northside and sitting on a battered old couch, knees tucked under an old crochet blanket that her Nonna had made in the 70’s (it was the only explanation for why that color green could have ever existed), and her jean jacket pulled tight around her. She fished a pocket flask out of the inner right pocket with her left hand and quickly took a drink (water, she was still a stickler for rules, even now), fingers tapping on the warm metal in a jazz staccato rhythm. Tanner, her not-yet-cousin leaned over towards her, half for warmth and half out of interest.   
“Why do you have a pancake patch on your jacket?”

_Almost 10 years ago:_

_It was a late August night, and Angie was curled up under a saddle pad on a crate in Mackenzie Farms’ tack room. She pulled the watch her dad gave her out of her pocket and looked at the time- 10:50. Second shift was almost over. She pulled the phone off the wall hanger and dialed the dispatch station for AC. It wasn’t hard to convince the woman that had answered the phone that she was terrified, being cold really helped with the panicked tone she needed to pull this off. Five minutes later, the woman called back and said her mom would be over as soon as she left work. Angie hung up the phone and sighed. All she could do was hurry up and wait. Midnight rolled around before her mom got there._

_“What happened?”_

_“Dad left me here with the old lady that owns the place. Nobody else could watch me,” Angie cried, shivering, even though she was now wrapped in an old horse blanket._

_“Okay sweetie, let’s go home.” The two walked down the hall after closing the door to the tack room. One of the horses stamped its hoof, almost in sync with the pistol shot. Her mom hit the ground, hole in the middle of her head, neck bent to the side. Angie turned around and saw her dad holding the pistol, flanked by her Uncle George and Uncle Nate._

_“I’m sorry baby.” Her dad lowered the gun and Angie ran to him, hugging his legs. She was 7 and still a bit short for her age. He bent down and gave her a hug, then put his hands on her shoulders. “You need to go with Uncle George okay? Don’t give him or Aunt Lynn any trouble alright?” Angie nodded and took her uncle’s hand, walking away, leaving Dad and Uncle Nate to clean up the mess._

_When they got to George Andrews’ one story house, Aunt Lynn pulled her into the bathroom and almost threw her in the tub of warm, bubble bath water. Her aunt scrubbed her red and washed her hair, before draining the tub and using the detachable shower head to rinse Angie off, then wrapped her niece in a warm towel and braided her hair. Angie pulled on a pair of her baby cousin Jules’ pajamas and crawled into bed next to her, curling up close._

_The next day, her dad picked up Angie and took her home. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It should have never come to…”_

_“It’s okay, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t,” she said, taking the cup of tea._

_“What do you want for breakfast?” He looked at the empty kitchen, they’d need to go grocery shopping, a hateful chore, especially on a Saturday._

_“Can we have pancakes?” She looked up at him, holding the tea in her unintentional sweater paws._

She took another swing of water before looking at the blond Serpent and sighed. “I just really like pancakes.”


	2. The Baby Dinosaur Patch

The Baby Dinosaur Patch:

_ A baby brontosaurus wearing an Uncle Sam hat on his back like a patriotic snail.  _

Dave Brandon finished his beer and looked across the picnic table at his niece. Angie was eating a piece of blackberry pie, holding it over the plate like a slice of pizza. Her dad ate his pie the same way and it was hard to believe it had been twelve years since he’d seen the SAMMICH Princess, even if she insisted on being called a Duchess after moving to San Bernardino. 

_ The baby brontosaurus came out of a road trip to Arizona. The SAMTAZ prince had called Angie Barney because of the purple outfit. He’d also gotten his nose broken after he tripped in bend in the cement of the parking lot. Lily had run with the idea and now all the club kids saved the SAMDINO kids with dinosaurs as last names in their contacts.  _

_ Aunt Carrie managed a screen printing company in town, her husband was a welder in the shop, not a patch, but when Angie came in the shop with a cartoon drawing of a dinosaur wearing a top hat with the idea of turning it into a patch, Carrie ran with it. Old ladies had crows and the men had their reaper shirts and patches, the kids didn’t have any club representation that they could wear to school without getting suspended for having gang paraphernalia.  _

_ A week later, Carrie brought four baby dinosaur patches to the clubhouse and watched as the kids sewed them on their jackets, giving them as much respect as the flashes on their dad's kuttes.  _

_ The following Monday all four of them walked past the Principal, patches on full display, commanding the hallway with an added air of confidence.  _

He chuckled. That was the cutest SAMDINO was ever going to look. 


	3. The Sight Patch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grease guns look like the ones in mechanic shops and industrial settings, but are made to shoot bullets. Jouer = to play, Attendre = to wait
> 
> The actor who plays Les Packer in SOA/Mayans MC also played Colonel Tom Ryan in The Unit. The test is a test conducted on Unit Candidates in the show.

The Sight Patch:

_ A blood red scope sight patch.  _

Angie groaned, half leaning over the table in Amber’s trailer. When she’d volunteered to help her cousin’s fiancée’s little brother (what a mouthful) study French for summer school, she thought some  _ studying _ was actually going to happen. Instead, the vocabulary list sat on the corner of the table like a fucking pariah while Tanner texted multiple people, accepted a Mario Kart challenge, and played something unintelligible to her on the radio. 

“When I came over here I thought we were going to study.”

“We are.” 

“I’ve been here two hours and you haven’t even picked up a pencil. You call that studying?” Exasperation was about 30 minutes ago in her mind. The mental train was going full speed towards Murderville with no emergency break. 

“It’s too hard, I’m going to fail again. Fuck French.” She was pretty sure Tanner was only upset because she was getting in the way of a perfectly nice Friday evening out with his friends and not that French was too difficult. 

“You’re nineteen and a junior in high school, you should be a freshman or a sophomore in college by now. Do you even  _ want _ to graduate?” He nodded enthusiastically, mostly because Angie looked like she was ready to rain hellfire down on him, her  _ don’t fuck with me face _ spelled doom. 

Tanner grabbed the vocabulary list and a pencil. 

“Write the conjugation table for  _ jouer.” _

_ Angie could shoot anything. Anything. Long range rifles, shotguns, pistols, grease guns, AK’s. If you can name it, she’s shot it. Her aim was fantastic, her patterns and accuracy off the charts. None of that would do her any good if there was a mechanical malfunction.  _

_ She was blindfolded, sitting at a table with a translucent tub full of handgun parts.  _

_ “Go.” Her Uncle Packer’s voice was scratchy but comforting. Angie thrust her hands into the tub and began pulling out pieces, fitting them together when she could and setting non-compatible parts to the side. She moved like a machine, fitting slides, springs, and casings together before inserting unloaded magazines. The revolver was the last.  _

_ “Done.”  _

_ “One minute, twelve seconds. Take them apart and put them back in the tub.” _

_ “Yes sir.” Angie hadn’t expected this to be over quickly. Her second try was under a minute, which seemed to satisfy the SAMDINO President. She wasn’t thrilled with having to do it a second time, much less a third.  _

“Done.” Angie bent over Tanner’s shoulder.  _ Je joue, Tu joues, Il/Elle/On joue, Nous jouons, Vous jouez, Ils/Elles jouent.  _ “Good, now  _ attendre.”  _


	4. The Rainbow Patch

The Rainbow Patch:

_ A rainbow spearing a storm cloud and refracting back into a double rainbow.  _

It was that time in the afternoon that humans seemed to eat lunch at like they all operated on a hive stomach. Angie was out getting a short list of groceries her aunt had texted her that morning after she left for her job at Southside High. The old cart had a wheel with a mind of its own which was making this trip increasingly difficult and was wearing on Angie’s nerves. She stopped in front of the milk cases, and sighed, noticing the Sheriff standing in front of one of them, holding a deli sandwich, staring as if deciding what pint of milk to buy was like solving for the 1000th digit of pi. He looked dead with the lights of the case hitting his face at that angle, his hat pulled down more than it should have been. Angie opened the case and grabbed a gallon of whole milk. 

“My son is gay.”

“What?” Angie jumped out of her skin and turned to look at the man. He was smiling, and pointing at the patch on her left sleeve. 

“My son is gay, too.” There was no malice in his voice, who would have thought the ex-Marine turned Sheriff wouldn’t have a problem with that? Very atypical but good to know. 

_ Rainbows are made by refracting light through prisms, or by very lucky angles of sunlight post rainstorm. They are also very beautiful. Angie sat on the deck of their house in San Bernardino watching the remains of a very rare storm fade away. She was trying to waste time before refreshing her grades app again. Math was her worst subject, and she was failing. Well, to her it was failing. C’s weren’t exactly Stanford approved. She’d studied every night the past week for this damn test and she was hoping for an A.  _

_ Angie hit the refresh button.  _ 95%.  _ An A- certainly wouldn’t hurt her GPA. She looked up at the sky again, the rainbow was back. Tilted a bit, but back. That’s the commonality- adversity of any kind will change you, but getting through it is a beautiful thing.  _

“I’m bisexual actually,” she said after a while. Tom Keller was a nice guy, she’d met him before at some community barbecue. Angie put the gallon of milk in the shopping cart. “For the record, I wouldn’t tell just anyone what you told me, it’s rude to take away other people’s right to safety and comfort.” 

“I’ll remember that.” She left him by the milk, and heard him open the case as she pushed the cart away. 


	5. The Record Patch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Micky Dolenz is the drummer for The Monkees and in my world he owns an ice cream parlor that boasts the best homemade ice cream. All the flavors are named after songs from the 60’s and 70’s. Barracuda is by Heart (red/raspberry), Cousin Kevin is by The Who (yellow/lime), Sunshine of Your Love is by Cream (orange), and Midnight Confessions is by The Grass Roots (green/lime).  
> Micky’s Ice Cream Parlor is inspired by Mickey Lolich’s Donut shop (left handed pitcher for the Detroit Tigers in the 60’s and 70’s).

The Record Patch:

_ A ‘33 record with an orange center label coming out of a leather book like a floating orb.  _

Yard sales aren’t as fun as estate sales, but Angie was looking for old fabric and quilts so this would have to do. So far she’d been to three houses on the block and hadn’t found anything useful. At least this one had a few boxes of ‘33’s she could kill fifteen minutes lackadaisically thumbing through. 

_ Micky’s Ice Cream Parlor held four contests a year for a three month free ice cream voucher. It was for single scoops only but they’d take the $1.89 off the price of a double or triple so a lot of kids entered. Angie walked in the shop and dropped the envelope in the contest box. A week prior, she’d come in and bought a half gallon each of  _ Barracuda _ ,  _ Cousin Kevin _ , and  _ Sunshine of Your Love _ and figured out what she was going to wear for the photo shoot.  _

_ The idea was simple and very ‘60’s. People would take artsy photos with Micky’s ice cream and enter them in the hopes of winning. Angie had Karen Packer, Aunt Karen, the club photographer take the picture of her in a brown pantsuit with a dayglo orange shirt under a very hard to find oak tree. She was sitting at a wrought-iron table and chair set, holding the sherbet which she had cut into leaf shapes and stylishly arranged in a bowl. Her hair was still long, but the color had washed out so the bottom was blonde and the roots brown, making her look like Michelle from  _ The Mama’s and the Papa’s.  _ There was a scuffed, leather bound, maroon book propped on the table in front of her as she pretended to eat the sherbet leaves.  _

_ A week after that, Angie walked in to pick up her voucher and looked at the wall back by the bathrooms. Her photo was closer to the bottom, and she smiled before going back to order a bowl of  _ Midnight Confessions, Barracuda,  _ and _ Cousin Kevin. 

Angie pulled out a copy of ZZ Top’s  _ Fandango _ and The Monkees’  _ Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, and Jones LTD.  _ The albums would satisfy her ears, at least. 


	6. The Double Headed Ax Patch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The police use Coca-Cola to clean up bloodstains at large traffic accidents. In which being the daughter of an Unholy One has its own set of problems. A Librarians reference if you pay close attention, and I’ve only watched The Shield once (so far).

The Double Headed Ax Patch:

_ A 1.5 tall by 1 inch wide ax with two golden heads.  _

Despite her best efforts, Tanner had managed to fail summer school French,  _ again,  _ because apparently he’d failed French I more than once. It just wasn’t as spectacular of a failure as normal. Being the almost son-in-law of the French teacher wouldn’t get him any leeway either, Aunt Kathy was fair, which was part of the reason people respected her, even if they didn’t like her. The first test of the year was the next Monday, so Angie was going to spend an otherwise relaxing Friday evening tutoring Tanner and Co. She was not amused, and she had not volunteered, not that she had the first time either. 

Knocking was overrated. She got out of the borrowed car and locked it before stuffing the keys in her jacket pocket and clutching her old French binder while stalking up the steps to the trailer. Angie pushes open the door, unlocked as usual, shut it after stepping inside, and toed off her Mocs, leaving her in sock feet. The binder was put on the kitchen table and she looked towards the tiny living room. The four boys were playing  _ Mario Kart.  _

“Oh look, an ax murderer.” The annoyance dripped onto the floor like hot molasses. Four faces turned to look at her. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Sweet Pea was almost as pissed off at her being there as she was. 

“Sixty seconds too long, and you?” He still wasn’t over her beating him at pool that summer and considered her and her cousin G to be Northsiders looking for street cred, which was odd because he seemed to like Aunt Kathy a lot. 

“Fuck you too, Valecorsa.” The one in the beanie was looking at Sweet Pea with a shocked quizzicality. 

“I’m not in the mood.” Sassy might well have been her middle name at this point. Or Danger, because she looked like she’d stolen one of Austin Powers’ more sedated outfits. She was actually wearing something akin to Davy Jones in the  _ She Hangs Out  _ music video but no one would know that. “Are we studying for this test or should I go home and start my fifth rewatch of  _ The Shield _ ?”

“We’re studying.” Tanner hit the power button on the tv, the game forgotten at that point in favor of being on his near cousin’s good side. 

“You’re his French tutor,” the beanie clad teen asked in a tone of voice that screamed fake disinterest in how Tanner knew a hot senior. 

“Je suis la nièce de Madame, oui?” Slash pulled a chair up to the kitchen table and took out a few spare pieces of paper out of his jeans pocket. The Toscano was prepared, which she liked. Tony was a decent guy even if he had a preposterous nickname. 

“Great…” the four guys were all crowded around the table with their study guides in front of them. 

“So, who can count to fifty  _ en Français?” _

_ The word labyrinth comes from the Ancient Greek  _ labyrinthos  _ meaning double headed ax. Angie smiled at Grandmama, as the woman made all of Kida’s friends call her, while the woman instructed her on how to properly throw a knife. It was something she used to scare all the teens who worked at the bakery, but she would only do it in front of them once. Grandmama was four foot eight inches on a good day and looked much too sweet to be able to throw anything, so no one ever believed them when they told anyone.  _

_ Angie spent every other Saturday evening that spring at Kida’s learning how to throw. By the fall, she’d progressed to throwing axes,  _ too much Vikings,  _ said Grandmama, but Angie threw them nonetheless. She’d also become good with both hands, a fact that Grandmama was extremely pleased with. Lily and Sarah had learned how to throw too, leaving Danny the odd man out, but not really, because he was the star pitcher for the Belle Lake Varsity Baseball team.  _

_ It wasn’t until a newly sixteen year old Angie axed a Nord in the shop parking lot during a very ill planned kidnapping attempt that she’d ever hurt anyone that badly. The rest of them ran, so score one for her. Score two actually because she hadn’t needed to clean up the mess. Uncle Mike was impressed. Uncle Packer was just glad it was late enough that the metal fabricating shop was closed and that dusk was starting to roll in. Lily threw up and Sarah held her hair back while she tried to keep it in herself. Angie washed up in the shop bathroom while Lily changed into one of her dad’s work shirts. Sarah drove them all home. Danny was at a tournament that weekend, the lucky bastard.  _

_ Angie sat under the shower spray, her clothes in the load of laundry that was going, and cried. The next day, when she’d gone into the shop to replace Katie, her brother’s wife, who was on maternity leave, the three two-liter bottles of Coke that were in the fridge on Friday were gone.  _

“Good, let’s review pronouns.” 


	7. The Siren Patch

The Siren Patch:

_A 1.5 by 1 inch purple and blue siren tail surrounded by teal water ripples at the top._

Swimming was fantastic exercise. It kept Angie lean and in a tan year round. She hadn’t been in a pool since she’d come to Riverdale and it was high time she got back in the water. The girl waded in, wearing prescription aviator sunglasses, and got used to the water before setting the glasses at the side of the pool in favor of doing laps.  
_Swim team was great. Being the captain of said swim team was even better. That year, the girls had chosen famous last names for their team sweats instead of their own. Angie took Luciano and her co-captain Max had Siegel. The irony of a Sicilian sporting an Irish last name had Angie in stitches each time she saw it. Angie could swim all day, she’d eat snacks while still in the pool if her dad wasn’t home to catch her. Eight hours of moderate swimming was nothing to her. Sure her aunts helped her with Pilates and basic gymnastics, her uncles supervised her lifting, and her dad had her go in for kickboxing and some judo training, but swimming was her favorite. The ballroom dance class was quite helpful in learning how to move in heels though. Sarah, Lily, and Angie felt like Angels- Charlie’s, not Victoria’s. Who needed that kind of secret?_

 _If she wasn’t studying or sleeping, it was 99.9999% she was in the pool. Lily would be in her own backyard going over cheer routines, which sometimes the girls and Danny would join in on for the hell of it, Sarah would be jogging or hitting tennis balls against the back of her house when she wasn’t on the tennis or volleyball courts, and Danny was usually in the weight room at the clubhouse if he wasn’t running bases. Carrie had given each of them sports patches. Angie had her tail, Danny had a baseball speared with a fishhook, Sarah had a teal volleyball with a smaller tennis ball off to the side, and Lily had two pompoms crossed like the scepter and flail of the pharaohs._  
Angie may have had the misfortune of looking like Tom Cruise in those aviators, but the lactic acid burn in her muscles was enough to distract her from her reflection in the sliding glass door on the way inside.


	8. The Ivy Patch

The Ivy Patch: 

_ A vine of ivy curling around a brick wall like a second skin.  _

Malachai was not a guy you fucked with and lived to tell the tale, or at least lived  _ happily.  _ The basement hangout in the House of Dead made Angie think the old English Opium dens were clean. Malachai’s makeshift chambers were clean at least, and that’s where she was right now, hands tied behind her back with what was in no way a clean bandana. She could get out of it but thought it might be better not to showcase that particular skill at the moment. Could she take down five guys with that leg lamp? Sure, but she doubted that the twenty something upstairs would let her walk out in that case. Buying fabric on the Southside was a great idea if she wasn’t driving her cousin’s very noticeable burnt orange  _ Charger _ . She blamed Lissa for owning that monstrosity of an automobile and herself for driving it. Mostly she blamed Lissa. 

“What were you doing driving my bartender’s car,” Malachai’s question wasn’t really a question, it was more of an excuse to play with a very fancy looking knife while posturing. The guy was a bit hard to take seriously looking like the Hispanic Fabio,  _ had the man heard of shirts?,  _ and his curls were to die for. If she wasn’t worried about getting stabbed she might have started drooling. The only problem was, she had no idea how much Malachai knew about Lissa so any lie would have to satisfy both parties without making him check her ID, which she was carrying in her jacket pocket, and not her purse, which was sitting on the table in front of him. None of her cards were in there. 

_ Moving from Michigan to San Bernardino had been tough on Angie. She only knew Lily and Danny, and even they weren’t exactly thrilled to have her there at first. The ten year old spent a lot of time by herself and was more reserved than most adults could ever hope to be. Becoming friends took her more than cookies, although those certainly helped, but her new uncles were even tougher to crack. Being the daughter of an ex-President was not an easy task. She’d won Uncle Frank over by liking snakes, the man had several terrariums filled with various kinds, Angie was pretty sure some of them were illegal but that didn’t matter. She color coded files for Uncle Packer and made Aunt Karen and the other Old Ladies and office workers jobs a lot easier which got her more than one in with the SAMDINO crew. Angie spent a year figuring out her spot in the club, working her way into all the cracks and crevices before she finally felt at home.  _

For once in her life, Angie decided to tell the truth to an outsider. 

“She’s my cousin.”


End file.
